


Aftermath

by Lucy410



Series: Anniversary [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy410/pseuds/Lucy410
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Anniversary Malcolm is struggling to cope</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was all over. Malcolm was safely back where he belonged on Enterprise. The Vulcans had arrived to take Todd into custody and Trip was fervently grateful that there would be no further chance for him to escape. He just wanted everything to go back to normal, but what worried him most was that Malcolm didn’t.

There was a haunted, hunted look in the man’s grey eyes that hadn’t been there before and he was spending more and more time alone. Following Phlox’s instructions Trip had tried to talk to his lover about what had happened, what Todd had done to him but whenever he brought the subject up Malcolm would turn away and refuse to speak. Their relationship had suffered. Malcolm would only tolerate bodily contact for brief moments and the nights spent together, talking, making love or even just sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms were a thing of the past. Malcolm slept alone, although from the purple shadows that seemed to be a permanent fixture under his eyes, one might wonder if he actually slept at all. Having yielded, albeit unwillingly, on the subject of sleeping arrangements, Trip had insisted that they continue to eat breakfast together, he was determined not to let Malcolm drift away from him.

This morning however Malcolm wasn’t in his quarters and heart thumping with apprehension Trip sprinted to the mess. He needn’t have worried, Malcolm was there. Ever since he’d been back he had preferred a seat in the corner, somewhere he could sit and keep his eyes on everyone and everything.

“Malcolm,” Trip smiled. “You got up early this morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” the man didn’t bother to look up at Trip. “I needed coffee.”

The large bruise on his face, Trip realised, was taking a long time to heal. Malcolm had refused to allow Phlox to treat it and maybe, Trip reflected, he should have recognised that as the first warning sign that all was not right with Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. Trip clenched his fists; it was at times like this, looking down at his lover, whose grey eyes were never still, that he wished he had killed Todd while he’d had the chance.

“Mal, I...”

“What?” Malcolm glanced up, anger on his face. “You want to talk, you want to help me? Or is it that you want me to help you feel better?”

“I love you,” Trip stated simply. “We can get through this together.”

“Together?”

“Yes. We’re a couple, Mal...”

“That’s what I thought,” Malcolm snarled, making no effort to keep his voice down. “It turns out I was wrong.”

“Please. I’m sorry.” Trip reached out for Malcolm’s hands but the man snatched them away so violently that he sent his cup of coffee flying.

“Go away Trip. I want to eat breakfast in peace.” Malcolm was bristling with rage and Trip hastily took a step back. Perhaps now was the right time to step back a little. Malcolm wouldn’t be able to avoid him for long, not on a ship the size of Enterprise. They could talk later. Besides, he could feel the eyes of every crewman in the mess on his back and the Chief Engineer and Tactical Officer arguing in public probably wouldn’t be something that Captain Archer would approve of.

_________________________________________________

The twinge of regret that Malcolm felt at driving Trip away was ruthlessly suppressed. He refused to feel guilty for what Trip was going through. Malcolm found himself alone, being eyed warily by other crewmembers whose tables were close to his and he closed his eyes. None of them could possibly understand what he had been through, what he was still going through. Down on the planet’s surface with Trip’s arms wrapped around him, he had felt safe. But once back on Enterprise that feeling hadn’t lasted very long. A sudden fear that at any moment he might be snatched away again had settled on him, compounded by the memory of how totally helpless he had been while in Todd’s custody. Malcolm had never felt as scared as he did now, not even before he’d learnt self-defence in order to dissuade the school bullies from picking on him. It was this fear that made him question his place on Enterprise. After all what use was a tactical officer who ran and hid in a corner every time anything bad happened. He felt like a fraud, both in his role on the ship and as Trip’s lover.

“I’m not the man Trip fell in love with,” Malcolm reflected bitterly, “how could he bring himself to love a coward?” 

Malcolm stood up, intending to get himself another cup of coffee but in actual fact he practically ran from the mess, away from his colleagues, afraid that if he stayed they might discover who the real Malcolm was.

His stomach grumbled as he walked the corridors. Half a cup of coffee, that was all it contained, he couldn’t face the thought of eating anything else. No one knew just how little Malcolm had eaten since coming back aboard Enterprise. It was true that Trip’s presence every morning meant that he had had to eat more then but the rest of each day would be practically food free. He’d show up at the mess at the appropriate times and it was no real trouble to make sure his fellow crewmates let him eat alone. It wasn’t that he was trying to starve himself but along with the fear had come an overwhelming lethargy that had robbed Malcolm of the desire or the ability to do anything. His movements and his thoughts were purely mechanical, only inertia kept him moving. He got up each morning because that was what he had always done and he went to bed each night for the same reason, although he would often lie awake for hours before sleep found him.

Crewmen he passed on his way to the bridge greeted him but if asked afterward Malcolm would have said that he hadn’t seen them. Locked up tight behind a wall of misery, fear and depression Malcolm was dying. The only man who might have been able to save him was the one man he kept pushing away.

“Malcolm.” Captain Archer greeted him as he walked onto the Bridge and Malcolm nodded a response but he deftly avoided all other eyes as he made his way to the tactical station. He busied himself checking the weapon systems although none of the information that scrolled past his eyes actually registered. Suddenly dizzy Malcolm swayed but with an effort he managed to hold himself on his chair. The next wave of dizziness made him stagger and Archer glanced up, alarmed.  
____________________________________________________________________________

“Eat it!” The voice held a tone of command but Malcolm had no intention of doing what it said.

He was sprawled awkwardly, half in and half out of his tiny cage. There were lumps of meat on the floor in front of his face where Todd had let the meal fall.

“Eat it!”

“No.” Malcolm looked up into Todd’s face. He was scared but still determined to act as the perfect Starfleet officer. However, when he saw the flare of rage in Todd’s eyes he knew his choice of approach had been the wrong one.

“Have it your own way Malcolm.” The first blow landed square on his stomach and drove the breath from his body, the next, slightly harder, just missed his kidneys. After that Malcolm couldn’t be sure how many blows fell or where they landed. His entire body was afire with pain. Finally the beating ceased and Todd’s voice once more growled out the command.

“Eat it!”

Defeated and hardly able to move Malcolm pushed his face to the floor to lap up the meat. He was chewing his second piece and praying he would be able to keep it down when Todd began beating him again. Malcolm cried out in protest but Todd, his face red with anger, paid no attention to his whimpering.

When the blows stopped falling Malcolm let his head roll to one side and he opened wary eyes.

“That’s what will happen every time you defy me,” Todd told him. “Do you understand?” Malcolm groaned an affirmative and Todd smiled grimly. “Back in your cage Malcolm.”

He didn’t dare to disobey and even though every movement was agony he edged his way backwards, away from his tormentor.  
_____________________________________________________________________

“Malcolm!” Archer knelt over the body of his fallen tactical officer, lifting one of his cold hands to feel for a pulse. The man had fallen without making a sound but despite this Archer had been at his side almost before he hit the floor.

While he waited for Phlox to arrive Archer sat with Malcolm, holding the cold hands, willing the Lieutenant to be alright. Archer had not been left unaffected by Todd’s kidnap of Malcolm and it had been more than just worry over the whereabouts and safety of one of his officers. In one sense his paternal feelings towards Malcolm were not too surprising. He was the captain of Enterprise after all and every member of the crew was his responsibility but somehow Malcolm had become a special case. It certainly wasn’t vulnerability that had intensified the feelings; Malcolm was more than capable of looking after himself. It was in fact Malcolm’s friendship with Trip that had stimulated the Captain’s feelings, at least at first. The abduction had intensified those feelings, particularly since Archer felt responsible, at least in part, for what had happened and since Malcolm’s return he had become all too aware of Malcolm’s isolation, even from Trip, the one member of the crew that Malcolm was closest to.

Archer chafed Malcolm’s fingers trying to warm them up and frowned. He’d been sure that Trip would be able to help Malcolm and so he’d deliberately stepped back from the situation but now he wasn’t sure if that had been the right thing to do, or even that there was any way he could change things.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Malcolm’s body throbbed in time with his heart. It felt as though he had strained every muscle that it was possible to strain and there was a nagging, insistent pain in his head. Slowly he opened his eyes, refusing to let the glare of the lights close them again.

“He’s awake.”

Trip’s voice and Malcolm found himself wishing that he could slide back into unconsciousness again.

Focus. Slowly his eyes remembered how to focus and he saw Trip’s face, the man was smiling at him.

“How’d you feel?”

“Like I’ve fallen down a flight of stairs,” Malcolm groaned and pressed a hand to his head. “Where’s Doctor Phlox?”

“I’m right here Lieutenant.” Phlox moved into Malcolm’s line of sight and smiled down at his patient. “Commander Tucker I wonder if you’d be so kind as to fetch these instruments for me.” Phlox handed Trip a padd.

“I’d like to stay with Malcolm.”

“I’m sure he’ll cope,” Phlox chided.

Trip looked at Malcolm who forced himself to smile and Trip nodded. “Sure Doc.”

Once Trip had gone Malcolm found himself being scrutinised closely by the doctor. Phlox was frowning. “Have you eaten today?”

“No.” Malcolm admitted.

“Well,” Phlox nodded, “there’s the reason why you fainted.”

“So I can get back to work now?” Malcolm asked, his hope guttering out when he saw the expression on Phlox’s face.

“I’ve got just a few routine questions to ask you first Mister Reed if you don’t mind.” Phlox glanced over to where Trip was standing; trying to find the listed instruments and Phlox lowered his voice. “How long has it been since you last ate properly?”

“I had breakfast yesterday,” Malcolm protested.

Phlox raised an eyebrow. “You’ve lost fourteen pounds over the last three weeks, you’re anaemic and there are over a hundred vitamins and minerals that your body is lacking.”

“Please Doctor,” Malcolm started to pull himself upright. “Is any of this really important?”

“For you to do your job yes. I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you from duty.”

“Fine.” His face mask-like Malcolm accepted the news.

“You must eat,” Phlox urged. “Every crewmember feels for you and what you went through. We all want to help you if you’ll let us.”

Numbly Malcolm shook his head. There wasn’t one single person on board Enterprise who could understand the way he was feeling, not one. “Can I at least go back to my quarters?”

“Of course,” Phlox murmured. “I’ll speak to Chef and have him prepare some food for you.”

Malcolm nodded but he couldn’t bring himself to say thank you. Chef could bring him a thousand different meals but he wouldn’t eat them. Maybe it was a good thing that he’d been relieved of duty. At least in his quarters he wouldn’t have to endure the stares of those who worked around him. He didn’t say anything before leaving Sickbay, he certainly didn’t want to say anything to Trip. In fact he hoped the man would take the hint and leave him alone.  
___________________________________________________________

“Where’d you go in such a hurry?” Trip, concerned for his lover, had followed Malcolm to his quarters. He stretched out a hand but Malcolm jerked away so violently that he tumbled over onto his bunk.

“Let me help you up.”

“No.“ Malcolm snapped and Trip recoiled. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not saying that you do.” Trip said. He’d thought himself past all of Malcolm’s defensiveness a long time ago and now here it was springing up around him like a barrier of thorns.

“Go away Commander.”

The use of his title made Trip wince. “No I won’t. I’m worried about you Malcolm. You’re not eating, you’re barely sleeping, I..”

“You’ve been talking to Phlox,” Malcolm accused.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve got eyes Mal. You’re thin as a rake. What’s going on? Please talk to me.” Trip pleaded. He looked at Malcolm and shivered. His lover’s eyes were two pieces of flint set in a face that was so hard and unyielding that Trip could barely recognise the man.

“Fine.”

Trip blinked in surprise, he hadn’t expected Malcolm to concede so easily.

“So what part of all this shall we talk about?” Malcolm’s gaze raked across Trip’s face. “Do you want me to tell you how many times Todd beat me? Or how his crew wanted to rape me?” Malcolm’s voice barely shook and his tone was dangerously quiet. “Perhaps you’d like to talk about all the letters that you wrote to Todd or the fact that you still love him.”

“No.” Trip started forward towards Malcolm. “That’s not true.” The world blurred and the next thing Trip knew he was lying on his back, Malcolm’s booted foot hovering just inches from his windpipe.

“Don’t lie to me.” Malcolm growled. “I know you wrote to him. I know exactly what you told him.”

Sweat beaded on Trip’s forehead and trickled into his eyes but somehow Malcolm had pinned his arms to his sides and he couldn’t raise a hand to wipe it away.

“I wrote to him,” Trip admitted. “But I never imagined that he’d do what he did.”

“No.” Suddenly all Malcolm’s ferocity seemed to drop away and he retreated back to his bunk, curling up and watching with blank eyes as Trip regained his feet.

“I couldn’t fight back,” the dark-haired man muttered the words to himself, hugging his knees to his chest. “I couldn’t.” The strange mantra appeared to bring Malcolm some comfort as he rocked back and forth.

“Mal?” Trip wanted desperately to reach out to the man but his back was bruised from his earlier fall and he didn’t want to risk another.

“Go away Commander.” It sounded like a request and for a moment Trip did consider refusing. “I don’t need you anymore.”

Sure that he was going to cry, shocked by the cold finality in Malcolm’s voice Trip turned and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Trip made his way back to Engineering in a daze. He didn’t mean it, Trip tried to convince himself, I know he didn’t mean it. But the conviction that had been in Malcolm’s tone gave the lie to his thought. Maybe he’s right to react like that, Trip told himself sternly. Malcolm’s brief description of what had happened to him had made Trip’s blood run cold. I’m responsible.

“Commander?” It was Rostov. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Trip replied, unsure of what he was going to do next.

“Captain Archer wants to see you. He’s waiting.” Rostov indicated Trip’s tiny office and with a nod of thanks Trip turned his feet that way. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to talk to Archer but what the Captain wanted the Captain generally got. Trip smiled grimly, if only it could work that way for him.

“Is this official business?” Trip seated himself opposite his friend, grimacing as the movement jarred his back.

“Are you alright Trip?”

“I’m fine.” Jeez he was starting to sound like Malcolm now. “I’ve bruised my back, nothing serious.”

“And Malcolm?”

“Angry as hell,” Trip admitted, wincing slightly. “I don’t think I’m helping.”

“Phlox says he hasn’t been eating,” Archer said. “Do you think there’s any way you could persuade him?”

Hating himself Trip shook his head. “Malcolm won’t listen to me. The abduction was my fault and I don’t think he trusts me anymore.”

“He said the abduction was your fault?” Archer questioned gently.

“He didn’t have to,” Trip growled. “Jon I’m sorry but if you want to know how Malcolm is you’ll need to talk to him yourself. He doesn’t trust me anymore.” Unconsciously Trip’s hands closed into fists. “And I don’t think you should either.”

Archer sat back in his chair, his expression serious. “You think all this will affect your ability to do your job?”

Trip hesitated. “No sir.” He answered, every inch a Starfleet officer.

Archer smiled. “Good. You wouldn’t be easy to replace.” He paused and reached out towards his friend. “Don’t give up on Malcolm Trip. He’s been through a lot and he probably needs you more now than ever.”  
_________________________________________________________________________________

Wrapped in sleep Malcolm tossed and turned, hair damp with sweat he muttered to himself. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream.”

 

“It’s just a dream,” Malcolm repeated, crouched in his cage, hands gripping the bars, trying to maintain some form of circulation. “Just a dream, just a dream.” Bruises stark against his pale skin Malcolm seemed to have drifted a long way from the neat and tidy Starfleet officer that he had been.

“Am I a man dreaming he’s a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he’s a man?” Todd mocked Malcolm. “This isn’t a dream Malcolm. Would your beatings hurt so much if it was?”

Malcolm didn’t answer, he didn’t even look up at Todd and the man’s face clouded with anger.

“It’s not polite to ignore questions Malcolm,” Todd chided, “we’ve been over this before but you obviously need another lesson.”

It was what he wanted, the door to his cage stood open and awkwardly Malcolm edged out. He had a knife, concealed in his fist. One of Todd’s crew had dropped it and Malcolm, pain shooting through his arms as he forced them to respond had managed to reach it. He didn’t wait but stabbed upwards at Todd’s heart but the knife wasn’t sharp enough and Malcolm wasn’t quick enough and before he truly knew what was going on Todd had disarmed him and knocked him to the floor. Unprotected, unable to move Malcolm had no choice but to suffer the beating that Todd meted out to him, his cries went unnoticed and the knife, the symbol of his rebellion, lay unseen on the floor close by.  
________________________________________________________

Unable to sleep Travis was prowling the corridors when he heard Malcolm’s cries. Immediately the young man raced for the nearest communications point and alerted Captain Archer to what he had heard. Archer, Trip and Phlox arrived practically simultaneously and Travis quickly told them what he’d heard.

“Well he’s quiet now,” Phlox commented, “I wonder if that’s good or bad.”

“Trip if you wouldn’t mind,” Archer gestured at the door and in a matter of seconds Trip had it open.

The men looked in on a scene of devastation. The coverings from Malcolm’s bunk were strewn on the floor and it looked as though the entire contents of the desk had been swept onto the floor.

“Malcolm?”

The man was curled on his bunk, arms wrapped around his knees. Arms that, Trip realised with horror, were covered in blood.

“Mal?” Trip moved forward but Archer held him back, Malcolm’s knife was lying abandoned on the floor.

“Where did he get that?” Archer asked.

“He wears them in his boot,” Trip explained quietly, “he says he wants to know he’s got the advantage if there’s a fight.” 

“That’s decidedly non-regulation,” Archer commented, moving to one side to make it easier for Phlox to examine Malcolm. “Where are the others?”

“Others?” Trip looked guilty.

“Malcolm wouldn’t have just one knife. And do you really want to leave them accessible when he’s in such a state?”

Trip went to Malcolm’s desk and bending down, he pulled out a drawer that Archer knew was an unauthorised modification, wordlessly he handed the contents of the drawer to Archer.

“Well,” Phlox folded his arms as he finished appraising the damage. “I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks,” he told his companions cheerily. “Luckily Lieutenant Reed managed to avoid injuring anything vital.”

“Malcolm?” Trip sank down next to his lover and winced at the sight of the wounds that the man had inflicted on himself. He reached across and pushed sweat-dampened hair off the pale forehead. “What did you do?”

Confused grey eyes met concerned blue ones. “I was dreaming, I think. The knife wasn’t sharp enough.”

“No, and I think we can all be grateful for that fact.” Phlox commented calmly, as he began to wipe the drying blood from Malcolm’s arms.

Standing in the doorway Archer bowed his head. Seeing his normally more than capable armoury officer like this had just deepened the burden of responsibility that he carried. “Doctor,” Archer beckoned the man to his side. “All this was caused by a dream? Malcolm didn’t consciously hurt himself?”

“I believe so, a kind of night-terror if you will.”

“So you can give him something to stop him from dreaming, from doing this again?”

Phlox’s face softened. “I will do everything I can for Mister Reed,” he promised. “Of course what is really needed in a situation like this is to get to the root cause, much more effective than merely treating the symptoms.”

Archer nodded slowly. “Trip says he doesn’t want to discuss what happened to him.”

“That’s hardly surprising. Don’t worry, he needs time. But in the meantime I think sickbay is the best place for Lieutenant Reed.”  
______________________________________________________

Trip looked exhausted, Archer realised, he doubted the man had slept at all despite all of Phlox’s exhortations to rest. Trip instead was refusing to leave Malcolm's side.

“How is he?” 

“Bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on Archer’s face. “Sleeping.” Trip sighed.

“You should be too.”

“How can I.” Trip stepped away from Malcolm’s biobed. “Phlox says his wounds weren’t that bad but what if they had been? I don’t want to lose him.”

Archer put an arm around the younger man and for a moment Trip rested his head on Archer’s shoulder, seeking strength.

“You won’t lose him.” Archer murmured quietly, vividly reminded of a time, just over ten years ago, when he had last held Trip in his arms to comfort him, following the arrest of his lover for murder. “He loves you, that’s all that matters.”

Trip nodded, blue eyes unfocused from lack of sleep.

“Now bed Commander. Malcolm isn’t going anywhere.”

“Yes sir.” Trip managed a weak smile and Archer gently guided him to the doorway.

“Things will look better in the morning.”  
_____________________________________________________

The drugs present in his system pushed Malcolm down, deep into his subconsciousness. He was falling, he realised, the light above him receding as his arms fought to gain a handhold, anything that might stop this interminable descent. With a grunt Malcolm slammed into the ground. Lying on his back he could see a circle of blue sky above him, it seemed so far away that reaching it would be an impossibility. Mentally Malcolm began to catalogue his injuries, no broken bones he was pleased to note, although his left ankle felt very sore and the impact with the ground had jarred his back, but nothing serious, nothing life-threatening. The light above him was abruptly blocked out by an arm descending towards him. Trip. But as he reached out towards the questing fingers, the ground beneath him disappeared and with a scream he started to fall again. A blink of the eyes and he was floating in space, stars all around him. Beneath him the Earth spun on its axis, oblivious to his presence and when he turned his head he found that Trip was floating next to him. But another blink of the eyes transformed his lover into Todd and Malcolm was suddenly fighting to get away.

The next thing the man was aware of he was back in his cage, shaking with fear as Todd stalked towards him, bodily dragging him out into the cargo bay. But as Todd raised his hand to strike Malcolm he was transformed into Trip. Malcolm tried to call out but the fist continued its descent and the impact caused the man to fall thankfully into unconsciousness.  
_________________________________________________________________

It felt, Malcolm reflected, as he fought his way back to wakefulness, as though he’d been asleep for a month. Not long enough, it hadn’t exorcised the fear that had been his constant companion for these past weeks. Even now he could feel its cold tendrils creeping through his mind, chasing away the warmth that a dreamless sleep had brought. Malcolm shivered and turned over onto his side, slowly allowing his eyes to open.

“You’re awake,” Phlox’s voice greeted him and Malcolm reluctantly pulled himself into a seated position.

“How long?”

“Ten hours. I expect you’re hungry.”

Not really, he wanted to say but somehow Malcolm didn’t think that was the right answer. Besides Phlox had already bustled off, no doubt to find him some food. His arms, despite the dermal regeneration gel that Phlox had used on them, were sore but he didn’t remember injuring himself.

“Malcolm?”

It was Archer. Startled the man looked up.

“What did I do?” he asked and just for a moment saw a flicker of despair in the Captain’s eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” A one word answer that was a lie. He wasn’t fine. From somewhere deep inside a voice reminded him that none of what he felt was Archer’s fault but he refused to listen. He swung his legs off the biobed, suddenly determined to go back to his quarters but Archer stepped forward, refusing to let him move.

“When can I go back to my quarters?”

“When you’ve eaten something.” Phlox answered, pushing a tray into Malcolm's hands.

Malcolm didn’t argue and despite the vocal protest his stomach was making at the thought of food he sullenly lifted the spoon and started to eat.  
___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Phlox had eventually allowed Malcolm to leave Sickbay, with the proviso that as long as Malcolm kept eating he might remain in his quarters. To this end Malcolm had been instructed to pay Chef a visit. Silently the man had stood while Chef fussed and fretted over what he should give Malcolm, and when the man turned away to find a carrier to store all the food Malcolm calmly and silently closed his hand over the small vegetable knife that Chef had left lying on the food preparation counter.  
____________________________________________________________________________

Unlike Malcolm, Trip had not eaten breakfast that morning. Engineering, he decided, would have to cope without him and if anyone came looking for him he would just sit tight until they went away again. The image of Malcolm, bloodied lines crisscrossing his arms, was one that he was unable to shake. Malcolm hadn’t meant to hurt himself like that, he told himself but he couldn’t escape the feeling that the man was slowly sliding away from him.

Scrubbing his hands through his hair Trip climbed to his feet, determined to go to Malcolm’s quarters and remove any and all items that might become weapons in the hands of the tatical officer.

Of course the one thing he hadn’t expected to see when he got to Malcolm’s quarters was Malcolm.

“I locked the door,” Malcolm stated, grey eyes like chips of ice.

“I’m not Chief Engineer for nothing.” Trip folded his arms defensively.

“What do you want?”

There was no way to answer that question, no way to stop the despair from filling him as he realised that Malcolm was lost to him.

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“We’re worried about you.” Trip had expected a response to that, some vaguely sarcastic comment, not intended to wound exactly, but painful nonetheless.

“You told Todd that you were going to ask me to marry you.” Malcolm’s grey eyes were serious. “Were you?”

Trip swallowed and leaning against the door he prepared his answer. “I’d intended to ask you the night of our anniversary.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You found the picture of Todd.” Trip looked up but Malcolm refused to meet his gaze. “I don’t love him anymore,” Trip stated with conviction, “but I wasn’t sure enough of myself, I wasn’t sure enough to know if you’d say yes.”

Wary grey eyes lifted and a voice from which all hope, all life had been extinguished replied, “just for the record I would have said yes.”

“It was never my intention for any of this to happen,” Trip murmured fervently, reaching out towards Malcolm, unsure of anything except for the conviction that he wanted to erase all the hurt he had caused his lover. He took a step forward and another until he was close enough to wrap his arms around Malcolm and concentrated on eradicating all resistance to his touch. Awareness of the world around him fled as Trip felt Malcolm’s warmth beneath his fingers. He pushed away the faint question in his mind as to whether or not he was doing the right thing, whether or not Malcolm wanted this.

Working of their own accord his hands began to strip Malcolm’s clothing. He felt the other man’s response; it was Malcolm’s hands that rose to help Trip undress and Malcolm’s lips that closed on his own for a bittersweet kiss. These things Trip would recall later to convince himself that he hadn’t forced Malcolm, that he had only taken what was freely offered. As he moved, as the cries of pleasure escaped from his lips Trip heard Malcolm’s words back over in his head. 

“Just for the record I would have said yes.”

He should have been able to blame Todd for that chilling response, for the fact that Malcolm had spoken those words, but in reality it was his own fault, he had condemned himself by his inability to let the past remain the past and the final cry that burst from his throat was not one of pleasure but of despair.  
_______________________________________

It felt as though he were floating in darkness, the peace only disturbed by his own breathing. Pushing against this envelope of blackness Malcolm became aware of another presence. I invited this. Malcolm pushed the thought away as he realised that the weight on top of him was the weight of a body. He could feel the heat of pulsating blood but was unsure as to whether or not it was his blood. He pushed a little harder against the darkness and it began to slowly dissipate, replaced by a greater sense of awareness. Trip. His returning faculties found a name for the body he could feel, a name that was accompanied by a terrible sense of desolation.

I think I wanted this. He rejected that outright, aware now not only of Trip’s presence on him but in him as well. He could feel each thrust of the man’s pelvis, could hear each cry from Trip’s mouth and feel the small puffs of air against his cheek. His body remembered this; it was a familiar situation but Malcolm’s mind cried out against the assault. His skin was burning, his own body responding to what it recalled as being pleasurable but Malcolm, with an effort, brought his body under his mind’s control. 

Trip was thrusting more quickly now, soon it would be over and the reluctance he experienced at the thought of what he was about to lose was something that Malcolm was unable to banish. Trip’s final voicing of his pleasure sounded strange in Malcolm’s ears but he allowed himself no time to dwell on why, it was imperative rather to escape from his position. It was remarkably easy to push the other man’s body away, no words were needed, the distress in Trip’s eyes as he dressed said everything. 

Alone Malcolm lay back on his disordered bunk, the scent of sex in his nostrils and closed his eyes.  
___________________________________________________________________________

He’d managed to fall asleep, which in itself was unexpected but what was more unexpected was the hand stroking his leg. “Trip?”

“I’m afraid not.” The voice was rough and gravely, nothing like Trip’s soft drawl.

“Where am I?” Stupid question really, he knew exactly where he was; the bars of the cage pressing into his back gave it away.

“You’re pretty when you’re asleep.” The hand was still stroking his thigh and Malcolm would have pulled away if there had been anywhere he could have gone.

“What do you want?” Later Malcolm would wish those words back into his mouth.

“I thought you had better manners than that.” The man smiled and a new wave of sweat broke out over Malcolm’s body. The hand was now sliding rapidly up his leg.

“Oren!”

Relief as the hand suddenly withdrew. Todd had entered the cargo bay and Malcolm found that he was almost pleased to see him.

“I hope you’re behaving yourself.”

“I wouldn’t do anything else Boss. He’s pretty though.”

“Charlie always did have good taste. “

Malcolm shuddered and tried hard to hold his gaze steady when Todd crouched down by his cage.

“What about you?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer so Malcolm wisely kept his mouth shut.

“He’s still answering back.” Oren put in, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

“Is he?” Todd unlocked the cage. “Get out Malcolm.” But Todd didn’t wait for the man to move and instead reached in to haul him out.

Malcolm did his best not to sprawl on the floor. He could hear Oren laughing and Todd growling at him to get up.

Then Todd’s face was right in front of him. “I will break you,” he snarled. “You think you’re going to be reunited with Charlie? By the time I’m finished with you he won’t know you.”

“I’m sorry.” Malcolm choked out the words, hating himself.

“Not good enough.” Todd stood up and a moment later his booted foot connected painfully with Malcolm’s side.

Malcolm cried out but there was no one to help him.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke, shaking and it took a long time for the shuddering to stop. When it finally did Malcolm curled up on his bunk and began to cry. Todd had been right and Trip in fact no longer knew who he was.

“And if he did he wouldn’t want to know me.” Malcolm choked out the words. He thought of the way he had reacted earlier, pushing Trip away but what choice had he actually had? How could he let Trip close, trust him when he wasn’t even sure that he trusted himself anymore.

Malcolm howled out his anguish, beating his fists against his legs, renewing the bruises that had so very nearly healed. Not really aware of what he was doing his hand found the small knife that he had purloined earlier and he began once more tearing at his arms with the blade. The pain was intense and he climbed unsteadily to his feet and pulled on his uniform. He could smell Trip and the memory of the happiness that he had once felt in the man’s presence made him feel even worse. Utter despair gripped him and he fled from his quarters.

Malcolm noticed neither the stares of the crewmen he passed nor his own tears. He let his feet take care of themselves. Everywhere he walked, every step was torture, everything reminded him of Trip, even the faint thrumming he could feel in the walls when he rested his head against them.

“I can’t stay on Enterprise.” Saying those words was painful but Malcolm realised that there was relief as well and a little of the fog cleared from his mind. Maybe if he was away from here he would be able to forget what had happened, maybe.

Satisfied that his decision was the right one Malcolm felt that perhaps now he could face returning to his quarters. He’d become disorientated in his wanderings and for a moment he wasn’t even sure what deck he was on.

“Malcolm?”

Archer and Phlox were standing at the end of the corridor and idly Malcolm wondered how they had found him when he didn’t even know where he was himself.

“Captain, Doctor.” They were walking towards him and he eyed them warily.

“It’s okay Malcolm.” Archer’s tone was soothing and the man reached out to hold his arms. “I want you to go back to Sickbay, just for tonight.”

“No,” Malcolm pulled away and left Archer staring at his hands in horror. The sleeves of Malcolm’s uniform were soaked in blood and Phlox stepped forward, gently rolling up his sleeves and calmly assessing the new damage that Malcolm had inflicted on himself.

“I’m going back to my quarters.” Malcolm made to push past Captain Archer but at a discreet nod from the Captain two security men stepped forward to flank Malcolm. He knew their names, Wilson and Scott and he tried hard not to see the sympathy in their eyes as they advanced towards him. Helpless Malcolm stood quietly as Phlox pressed a hypospray against his neck. The world went black.  
__________________________________________________

“Trip.” Exhausted Archer looked up as his friend entered his office, he’d barely slept last night, wondering if he had done the right thing or not with Malcolm, although the disregard the man had shown for his own well-being suggested that he had. Now here was Trip looking as though he were about to explode. “Where were you last night?” Trip looked surprised, the man hadn’t been expecting to be questioned and Archer noted that Trip looked every bit as exhausted as he felt.

“In Engineering.”

“So you don’t know anything about Malcolm?” Archer sighed. “Several crewmen saw him wandering through the corridors last night, he was barefoot and muttering to himself. Phlox seems to think he’s suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress and that what he really needs is to talk to someone. Has he spoken to you?”

Trip shook his head but there was no mistaking the guilt in his eyes.

Archer let the silence hang in the air, waiting for Trip to speak.

“I raped him!” 

Not exactly the response Archer had been expecting and for a moment he was floored.

“Jon?”

The look of despair in his friend’s blue eyes prompted Archer to take a step forward, above all else he wanted to comfort Trip but right now detachment was what was needed if he was to sort out the truth of what had happened.

“How did it happen?”

“I went to Malcolm’s quarters,” deliberately Trip turned his back to Archer so the man wouldn’t be able to see his face. “I wanted to make sure it was safe, so if he had any more nightmares he wouldn’t.. wouldn’t..” Trip’s voice trailed off, the engineer still couldn’t comprehend why Malcolm had injured himself and Archer put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But Malcolm was already there.” Trip drew in a long shuddering breath and turned to face his friend. “I wanted to marry him,” he admitted quietly, “and I told Todd.”

Archer couldn’t hide his distress at that news. “You really thought that was the right thing to do?”

“I don’t know. I should have been more aware.. should have known but I really thought Todd would be happy for me. His letters were always so positive.” Trip folded his arms across his chest. “I never asked Malcolm.” If anything his voice had become even quieter. “I wanted to but when the moment came I just couldn’t do it.”

“Todd told him.” Archer guessed.

“Malcolm told me that he would have said yes,” a howl of anguish burst from Trip’s lips at this admission. “I could have been happy, Malcolm could have been happy.”

“And after that?”

Trip’s eyes were full of emotion when he looked back at Archer. “I wanted to hold him, I thought maybe.. I don’t know. Then we were undressing each other and making love. I thought it was what Malcolm wanted but when it was over he pushed me away. He told me to get out.” Trip’s voice was anguished. “He couldn’t bear to look at me.”

“That wasn’t rape,” Archer told Trip gently. “You can’t believe that Malcolm would let that happen to himself.”

“While he was on Todd’s ship,” Trip growled, having to force the words out, “Todd’s crew tried to rape him and I’m just as bad as they are now.”

“No. All you’re guilty of is bad judgement. It wasn’t your fault that what happened happened and you’re certainly not as bad as the people who tried to rape Malcolm.” Archer found that it physically hurt to say those words, to think that something like that could happen to one of his officers was beyond belief. “Malcolm loves you. Despite everything that’s happened to him he still loves you. You will survive this.” Archer put a comforting hand on Trip’s arm. “Malcolm needs time that’s all.”

Trip shook his head. “I don’t think so Jon. Everything that has happened to him, everything that he needs time to get over is my fault.” His voice dripped with self-loathing. “And the worst thing is that he’s not the same Malcolm I fell in love with. Hell, I still love him but when he looks at me it’s as if the past coupla years haven’t happened and we’ve only just met.” Trip clenched his fists. “You remember how he was. He wouldn’t talk to me, except to say ‘yes Commander’. I don’t want to go back to that.”

“I’ll talk to Malcolm.” Archer promised. “Until I do hold tight. I doubt things are as bad as you think. And get some sleep, that’s an order.”

_________________________________________  
Waking up and remembering where he was and why he was there hadn’t been much fun. Even less fun had been seeing the security guard standing by the Sickbay door. The only thing that had given Malcolm any hope was the thought that today he had a plan; resignation from Starfleet was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Scowling Malcolm had listened as Phlox had exhorted him to eat and told him that he was under strict orders to return to see him later that day and then every day until he was told otherwise. But finally Phlox had let him leave and return to his quarters.   
_________________________________________________________________

Going to see Archer later that day Malcolm had dragged his feet, unsure as to why the Captain would want to talk to him and all the time hyper-aware of the man trailing him.

Archer’s first words left Malcolm in a state of shock. 

“Trip raped me?” Malcolm stared at Archer and he said the words almost as though he didn’t know what they meant. 

“That’s what he told me.” Archer sank back into his chair and rested his hands on his desk. “It’s a serious accusation.”

“And one that I’m not making,” Malcolm pointed out.

As he watched his armoury officer Archer couldn’t help but feel a terrible sense of foreboding. He had worked so hard to get Trip and Malcolm together, had seen how right they were for each other long before they had and to see it all come to such a tragic end was a terrible thing. Archer knew that this was it, he could read it in Malcolm’s body language, the rigid line of his shoulders, the blankness in the cool grey eyes and he wanted to scream, cry out at the inherent unjustness of the situation. But starship captains don’t scream, they merely deal coolly and calmly with each situation as they arise and keep their emotions in check.

“Malcolm I really think you need to talk to someone about what happened. If you won’t talk to Trip perhaps Phlox could help you or me.” 

“I’m resigning my posting.” Malcolm’s voice was distant and cold. “Enterprise needs an tactical officer who is actually capable of doing his job.”

“You’ve taken another assignment?” Archer was surprised by the flood of emotion that followed Malcolm’s statement.

“No. I’m leaving Starfleet, for good.” A mirthless smile twisted Malcolm’s lips. “At least my father will be happy.”

“I can’t change your mind?”

“No sir. Admiral Forrest,” Malcolm handed Archer a padd, “is arranging for a ship to take me back to Earth. These are the rendezvous coordinates.”

Archer put the padd on his desk without looking at it. “Have you told Trip?”

“Commander Tucker,” Malcolm growled out the name and Archer’s heart sank, “will doubtless hear about my resignation via the ship’s grapevine. I’ve never known it to fail before.”

“You don’t think he deserves to hear it from you? He loves you Malcolm and I know you love him too.” Archer said gently.

Malcolm’s face hardened. “I would prefer Captain that my personal life remain personal.”

“Very well Lieutenant,” Archer replied with the same cool tone. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Likewise Captain.”

“Dismissed.” Malcolm turned to go and as the door swooshed shut behind him Archer let his head fall forward, careful that the salty drops falling from his eyes would not stain his uniform.  
_______________________________________________________________

He’d done his best to obey Captain Archer but after four hours of staring into the darkness Trip had given up and gone back to Engineering. It was thankfully quiet when Trip entered and as he made his way towards his office he overheard two ensigns gossiping.

“What did you say?” Something in their conversation piqued Trip’s interest and he quickly closed the gap between himself and the two young women.

“N..nothing sir.” The brunette stammered, blushing.

“You were talking about Malcolm,” Trip snarled. “Why?”

“Lieutenant.. Lieutenant Reed has resigned, he’s leaving Enterprise.” There was a real quiver in her voice but Trip didn’t hear it. “Sir?”

But the man had gone, sprinting out of Engineering as though there were a pack of dogs on his tail.  
___________________________________________________________

“Commander.” Malcolm nodded at Trip courteously as the two passed but the taller man reached out and grabbed the shorter.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Trip growled, his unhappiness and despair manifesting as aggression.

“I’m not playing at anything.” Malcolm pulled away and smoothed down his uniform. 

Trip let his hands fall to his side, he searched desperately for the right words, aware that the conversation had started badly and then he saw the security man standing only a few feet away and trying hard to pretend he wasn’t listening. “They’ve got you under guard now?”

“Captain Archer’s idea.” Malcolm responded quietly. “I thought you knew.”

“No.” Trip growled. “Just like I didn’t know that you’d resigned.”

“I’m making an informed career choice.”

“Like hell you are.” Trip retorted. “You didn’t talk to me about it.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed to. With all due respect Commander you’re not my direct superior.” Malcolm could clearly see the pain in Trip’s eyes but he ignored it. He was no longer good enough for Trip and soon enough the man would see it too.

“Dammit Malcolm I love you. You can’t just up and leave without talking to me about it.” Watching Malcolm’s face Trip was sure that he saw his eyes fill with emotion but then he blinked and the emotionless mask was back in place.

“I don’t love you.” Malcolm stated calmly, a lie, but a necessary one. “I haven’t loved you for a long time. Now if you wouldn’t mind Commander.”

Trip stepped neatly out of the way and watched Malcolm stride away down the corridor. “Dammit Malcolm!” He punched the wall. “Why do you have to be so pig-headed?”  
____________________________________________________________________________

“You’re just going to let him go?” 

Archer didn’t need to look up to know that Trip was standing by his desk, quivering with rage, but he did so anyway.

“I can’t do anything else, believe me I’ve tried.”

“Not good enough.” Trip snarled. “You have to make him stay.”

“The only one who can do that is you.” 

“You don’t think I’ve tried,” Trip snarled. “Talking to Malcolm is impossible. He doesn’t hear a word I say to him. I need your help Jon.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Archer replied. “I’m sorry Trip.”  
__________________________________________________________________

Malcolm was tired. Despite his resignation Archer had insisted that he see Phlox every day. The doctor was an expert it seemed at asking questions that seemed to know no end, even when Malcolm merely sat in sullen silence, refusing to answer. 

He made his way back to his quarters slowly, stopping to rest every few yards, refusing any help from his shadow. There was a headache pounding behind his left temple and Malcolm thought longingly of his bed.

“Finally,” He murmured as he arrived back at his quarters, leaning his head for a moment against the cool metal before letting the door slide open.

“Malcolm!”

It took a little while for Malcolm’s tired eyes to take in his surroundings. Trip was standing by his bunk, two glasses of champagne in his hands and behind him, Malcolm noticed, his bunk had been strewn with rose petals. Deep in his heart he was touched by Trip’s gesture but overlying that was the overwhelming belief that he was no longer good enough for the man and so Malcolm struck out.

“Get out!” Malcolm thumped the door panel and the door slid open. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing but get out!”

“Mal please.”

Subconsciously Malcolm realised Trip was crying, his tears diluting the champagne that was threatening to spill onto the floor.

“Out!”

“I know you didn’t mean what you said and I just wanted us to take some time to be together, to start over.”

“I did mean it.” Malcolm’s voice was full of rage. “It won’t work.” Malcolm stated bluntly. “Too much has happened.”

Trip nodded curtly. His hands shaking he placed the glasses on Malcolm’s desk and then hurried through the door. He didn’t look back and Malcolm allowed the door to slide closed before curling up on the floor and sobbing with despair.  
_________________________________________________________

“Captain I have a request to make.”

“For you Doctor, anything.” Archer tried to smile but was afraid that it came out as more of a grimace.

“It isn’t so much for me as for my Tyrellian slugs. They’ve been ravenous these past few days and I’m almost out of food for them.” The concern in Phlox’s voice made Archer smile.

“What can I do?”

“The route we’re on passes close to a large trading port and I was hoping perhaps we might take a short detour.”

“Of course I’ll have Travis alter our course.”

“Thank you Captain.”  
___________________________________________________________________

It was no good. Every day that he had to spend on Enterprise was torture. Everything he saw reminded him of Trip and in self-defence Malcolm now no longer ventured out of his quarters. His nightmares had eased a little but his body still throbbed with pain, a vivid reminder of all that had happened to him. He still wasn’t eating and the gaunt features that stared back at him when he looked in a mirror he no longer recognised.

The Captain wanted to see him and although Malcolm wanted to refuse there was still enough of the Starfleet officer left in him to make him put on his now ill-fitting uniform and leave his quarters for the first time in days.

 

“I’m afraid it’s going to take us a little longer to get to our rendezvous than we had planned.” Archer forced the words out, trying not to show just how shocked he was by Malcolm’s appearance.

“May I ask why?”

“Doctor Phlox needs to pick up some medical supplies but it should only make us late by a couple of days.”

“Thank you for informing me Captain.”

Archer forced a smile. “Dismissed Lieutenant.”

Alone again Archer stood up, the smile gone. There was, he knew, absolutely nothing he could do for Malcolm. The situation had spiralled so far out of his control that he could almost feel grateful that Malcolm had resigned. Trip was no longer speaking to him and if what he’d heard was true Trip was no longer speaking to anyone. His behaviour in Engineering was impulsive and aggressive. He was forcing his team to work longer and longer shifts and pushing them harder than ever. Despite the stress Archer knew Trip must be causing it spoke volumes of his team’s loyalty that no one had yet made a complaint against him. Archer could only hope that Malcolm’s departure from Enterprise might calm Trip down a little, that no longer being on the same ship as the man he had loved and lost would help the engineer regain his equilibrium. The last thing Archer wanted to do was to have to discipline his friend.  
_______________________________________________________________________________

Unable to sleep Malcolm was pacing up and down in the tiny space that had, in the last few days, become his entire world. Eventually he came to a standstill and it was then that he realised with a faint shiver that the engines had stopped. Malcolm recalled what Archer had told him about Phlox’s need for supplies and his body suddenly seemed possessed, moving without conscious thought.

Quickly Malcolm dressed, picking out his clothes with care, anything too bright or showy would have to be left behind and the man didn’t even glance at his uniforms, he wouldn’t be wearing those again. The swoosh of the door as it opened seemed unbearably loud and the man on the door turned towards him, but Malcolm was ready, pressure applied in the correct place and his guard was flat on the floor. Malcolm took the time to drag the unconscious man into his quarters; by the time he was found Malcolm would be long gone.

Luckily this was the quietest period in Enterprise’s day and Malcolm thanked his lucky stars that there were so few crew about in the corridors. By the time he reached the airlock he’d only seen a couple of the maintenance crew and hiding until they’d passed hadn’t been difficult. As he stepped from the airlock into the environs of the trading station Malcolm took a deep breath. The air was stale, recycled a thousand times through filters which had long needed replacing but it was the air of freedom and Malcolm exhaled with relief and then hurried off into the station proper, without looking back.


	4. Chapter 4

Blinking wearily Trip raised his head and tried to rub the stiffness out of his neck. He’d fallen asleep in his office again after having spent another long night trying to find something for his mind and hands to do to stop himself thinking about Malcolm. Pushing his chair backwards Trip grimaced. How many days had he been wearing the same uniform for? 

Heading back to his quarters for a shower Trip instead found his feet taking him to Malcolm’s quarters, he couldn’t seem to help himself despite the fact that once again he was running the risk of rejection. The absence of the security man outside Malcolm’s quarters hurried his feet and Trip hastily over-rode the lock on the door and stepped inside.

“Commander!” A very groggy looking man tried to climb to his feet when Trip entered but the engineer stopped him from rising.

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. The door opened and Lieutenant Reed stepped out and then the next thing I know I’m waking up here.” The man looked very confused and Trip patted him on the shoulder and then hoisted him to his feet. “Go and report to Doctor Phlox, I’ll tell the Captain what’s happened.”

“Yes sir.” The man replied and left quickly, obviously relived that he would not have to tell Captain Archer that he had lost his charge.

Alone in Malcolm’s quarters Trip stared around hopelessly. A lone rose petal lay under the desk and Trip bent to pick it up, crushing it between thumb and forefinger he pushed it into a pocket, a reminder of everything that should have been his. It was only as he straightened that Trip realised that Malcolm’s closet was almost empty. For a moment or two Trip stared in horror as his brain put two and two together, then he turned and raced from the room.  
_______________________________________________

“Malcolm’s gone!” Trip practically exploded out of the turbo lift and onto the bridge. Then he realised that the entire bridge was staring at him and his face reddened.

“Malcolm’s gone.” He repeated the words slightly more quietly and strode quickly to Archer’s side.

“Well that is what he wanted,” Archer pointed out gently, hiding his alarm at the fact that Malcolm had left Enterprise without warning. Given his mental state Archer had been having doubts about handing him over to the Vulcans in the first place.

“Not like this. He didn’t give anyone a chance to say goodbye,” or me a chance to try and change his mind, Trip added silently. “We can’t just let him go like this.” The man was silently pleading with Archer to do something; his blue eyes were full of pain and fear.

He can’t let Malcolm go, Archer thought. I think I knew the first time I saw them arguing that they’d end up together and now they’re further apart than I would have ever thought possible.

“Trip,” Archer stood up and his friend’s eyes focused on him with renewed hope, “you’re right, we should give Malcolm a proper send off.” Trip opened his mouth and Archer hurried to forestall him. “T’pol will take Enterprise to the rendezvous coordinates and then return here. That’s how long we have to find Malcolm.”

A beautiful smile blossomed on Trip’s face and Archer struggled to beat out the vain hope within him, that maybe if they did manage to find Malcolm they might be able to persuade him to stay.  
______________________________________________________

Hunched in a too small seat and utterly miserable Malcolm sat aboard the transport and tried to ignore the way it shook as it took off from yet another small planet. The last two days had been spent planet hopping and by now he was heartily sick of it. Sleeping quarters on the transport were virtually non-existent and washing facilities didn’t exist at all. It certainly wasn’t the most stylish escape in the universe but the privations that he was suffering paled into insignificance when he considered that now he was free.

Enterprise was behind him now, a distant memory and it was a welcome relief to no longer be on board. He no longer had to suffer the stares of his fellow crewmates as he stalked the corridors or confine himself to his quarters, merely so he wouldn’t run the risk of seeing Trip. The name conjured up a faint sense of unease and Malcolm would have squirmed in his seat had there been the room to squirm. Despite the fact that their relationship had fallen apart a long time ago, Malcolm was worried that his treatment of Trip had been a little shabby. 

He loves me, he thought bitterly, and I should have said goodbye. Then a bitter smell from the transport’s galley set the passengers around him coughing and spluttering and Malcolm gagged. He was reminded all too vividly of his time held captive by Trip’s ex-lover. The ex-lover that he had never known about, the ex-lover that Trip had been writing to. A chill swept over Malcolm and he pulled the blanket draped over his shoulders across his head. Maybe he could have forgiven Trip for the lies, for everything that had happened. Perhaps they could have kept their friendship intact if not for the fear. Malcolm clutched his blanket tighter. The fear was what had, in the end, driven him off Enterprise. Every time he had seen another member of the crew he was vividly reminded of the fact that they expected him to protect them. Him, a man who wasn’t even capable of protecting himself, who saw shadows lurking in every corner and spent every moment afraid that he would once more feel the icy tingle of a transporter beam locking on to him and snatching him away. That was what he had failed to communicate to Trip, the fact that he was mortally afraid, plagued by nightmares and unable to fulfil the expectations of those around him.

“He wouldn’t have understood anyway,” Malcolm muttered under his breath.

“Who wouldn’t have understood?”

Unwillingly Malcolm turned his head, realising that he now had a neighbour. A neighbour who was leering at him in a way that made Malcolm shudder.

“I was talking to myself.” Malcolm looked away and tried in vain to make himself smaller.

“Talk to me.” There was a hint of command in the alien’s voice and suddenly Malcolm felt a hand on his chin, pulling his face round, forcing him to look into the swirling purple eyes and fear rose up, swamping his senses and Malcolm was fighting to get away.

“Don’t go.” A scaly hand clamped down hard on Malcolm’s arm and as a finger reached out to bring his chin around so that Malcolm was now facing the stranger, all his resistance melted away.

“That’s better.” The alien reached out and stroked Malcolm’s hair. “Oh yes, you’ll do,” he crooned.

His head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton wool and his eyelids were beginning to droop but Malcolm didn’t fight the feeling, there wasn’t any reason to after all. Malcolm let his eyes fall shut, he hadn’t felt this tired in a long time and a deep dreamless sleep beckoned enticingly to him.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” a deep voice said into Malcolm’s ear and the young man jerked awake irritably. The purple-eyed alien had gone and the man who had taken his place was wearing the uniform of the transporter guards.

“Who are you?” Malcolm frowned and feeling threatened, he pulled his blanket closer.

“The name’s Jak. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you came aboard and it’s just as well.”

“Keeping an eye on me?” Malcolm echoed, did he really stand out that much?

“You’re a good looking man,” Jak commented and coughed in discomfit. “Not that it matters to me of course but to Murrain..”

“Who’s Murrain?” Malcolm made sure he held Jak’s gaze while one hand searched for the knife he had brought with him.

“Your weapon’s gone,” Jak stated bluntly. “It’s the first thing Murrain would have taken. He doesn’t like to let his merchandise harm itself.”

“Who’s Murrain?” Malcolm repeated.

“He’s a trader, gemstones, cloth, wine in the main, but he also has a profitable little side-line in slaves. Handsome young males for preference.”

“He wanted me for a slave?” Malcolm exclaimed in disgust.

“Would have had you too, ‘cept for me. It’s my job to keep an eye out for anyone I think Murrain might take an interest in.”

“Thank you.” Malcolm said sincerely. “The last thing I need right now is to be carted off as a slave and sold.”

“You might have been ransomed,” Jak admitted. “If you have friends Murrain might have been prepared to sell you to them.”

“I don’t have any friends.” Malcolm told Jak, mentally wincing at the thought of what Trip might say had he been asked to pay for Malcolm’s freedom.

Jak nodded sympathetically. “The transport will be stopping again soon. I’d get off if I were you. We don’t want to give Murrain another chance at you.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Not a problem.” Jak stood up and then bent his head towards Malcolm as a thought occurred to him. “When you get off look for Callum’s bar. Callum’s a good man, looks out for those like you, humans I mean.”  
________________________________________________________________________

Their luck had held, this far anyway, Archer reflected as he and Trip picked their way through the jostling crowds. They had very quickly established that Malcolm had indeed come aboard the station from Enterprise and had been seen buying a ticket for the transport that linked the station with a trading network of planets. Humans were still relatively rare in this part of the galaxy and so a sizeable number of people had noted Malcolm’s presence. Unfortunately for them, the transport was the only means of contact, aside from private vessels with the outlying planets and it would not be back at the station for two weeks. Hence Trip and Archer’s haste as they tried to locate a vessel that would take them where they needed to go. After eight hours of searching they managed to find an Andorian who was willing to lend them a small shuttle. Although he was a private trader he had heard of Captain Archer and was very eager to help, convinced that the two men were on covert Starfleet business.

“So we don’t know exactly what he’s been told about you,” Trip muttered as he eased open the hatch of the borrowed shuttle.

“Just be glad we managed to find some transport,” Archer passed his bag to Trip.

“Those things about you he heard,” Trip commented as he stepped into the shuttle and looked around. “I’m not sure that they were good.”

The shuttle was tiny. There was barely room inside for the two of them and Trip grumbled as he took his seat in the pilot’s chair. “Andorians sure are little.”

Archer grunted, Trip’s humour wasn’t fooling him, he could hear the edge behind the words.

Once they were underway Archer decided to broach the subject of Malcolm.

“I don’t deserve him,” Trip stated bluntly.

“And that’s why we’re chasing after him?”

“You know why.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Because Malcolm’s not himself at the moment. I’m worried about him Jon and I know you are too.”

“If he wants to leave should we stop him? He’s quite capable of making his own decisions.”

“Then why are you here?” Trip asked angrily. “I love Malcolm, he’s sick and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“And yet you lied to him.” Archer knew he was walking on a knife’s edge. Trip was infamous on Enterprise for his quick temper and Archer knew he risked unleashing its full force on himself.

There was a flash of anger in Trip’s blue eyes but without warning it dissipated. “I didn’t set out to deceive Malcolm,” Trip murmured. “I was writing to Todd before we got together, I couldn’t just stop. I really didn’t think that Todd was a killer. I wouldn’t knowingly put Malcolm in danger, I’d die before I’d let anything happen to him.”

Archer watched silently as Trip’s cheeks flushed with colour and then paled again.

“I’d kill for him.”

“We’ll find him Trip.” Archer put a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. He had, he realised, been a little harsh. Trip certainly had not knowingly endangered Malcolm. If he had there was certainly no way Archer would have been here now. And in fact, as far as Archer could tell, Trip had done everything in his power to hold their relationship together, even when Malcolm kept pushing him away.

“The universe is an awfully big place,” Trip commented glumly, “where are we going to start?”

“Seti V. Malcolm bought a ticket there. I guess he’s trying to put as much space between himself and Enterprise as possible.”

“Or from me.” Trip said sadly. “Am I really such a horrible person?”

“It’s not you,” Archer relied. “I suspect more than anything Malcolm’s trying to run away from himself.”

“He wouldn’t tell me what had happened to him,” Trip protested. “I could have helped him.”

“He hasn’t talked to anyone,” Archer frowned. 

“I should have got him to talk to me. What sort of a relationship must we have for Malcolm to feel he can’t talk to me?”

“It’s not your relationship that’s the problem. I think Malcolm was treated pretty badly by Todd.”

“You think?”

Archer ignored the sarcasm. “Not being able to protect himself, it must have been hard for him.”

“Did anyone ever tell you how perceptive you are?”

“That’s why I’m Captain.” Archer smiled. “Things will get sorted out Trip. I don’t believe Malcolm’s stopped loving you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Trust me.”


	5. Chapter 5

Malcolm looked up at the sign for Callum’s Bar and despite himself, he smiled. It reminded him so vividly of Earth. His smile dropped at that thought, he had no idea if he would ever return to Earth, or if he did what he would do when he got there. It had been this bar that Jak had directed him to but Malcolm wasn’t sure that he wanted to go in, he had left Enterprise in part to get away from people and questions, if he went in he would have to talk to the barman, if no one else and if he was honest with himself the thought terrified him.

Having made up his mind Malcolm turned away, determined to seek anonymity in the crowd but then he spotted the same purple-eyed alien who had accosted him on the transporter and in a panic Malcolm turned and plunged through the doors into the bar.

Inside it was blessedly empty, there were two elderly aliens seated in a booth playing a board game that to Malcolm’s eyes looked very much like chess. All the other chairs in the place were unoccupied and the only other person was a man, who looked to be about Malcolm’s age, standing behind the bar, polishing a glass and obviously trying to look busy. But something made him hesitate just inside the doorway. He didn’t feel safe here and he jammed his hands into his pockets, afraid that if he didn’t people would be able to see that they were shaking.

“There’s nothing to fear.”

The voice made Malcolm jump.

“No one will hurt you I promise.”

It was the barman talking and Malcolm realised that the voice was oddly soothing. Slowly he moved forwards towards the bar.

“Whiskey?” The barman proffered a glass at Malcolm. “I’ve got three different kinds.”

Whiskey. Trip’s favourite drink. Malcolm shook his head and the barman narrowed his eyes.

“I’ve never known anyone to have such an emotional reaction to whiskey before. How about something a little less emotive, cider?”

Confused Malcolm nodded and a cold glass was pressed into his hand. He took a sip and almost sighed aloud as the liquid hit the back of his throat.

“You’re human?”

“Half human.” The barman grinned and held out his hand. “Callum.” When Malcolm ignored his hand Callum shrugged and pulled it back. “Something’s frightened you pretty badly hasn’t it?”

“You can read my mind.” Malcolm accused, as he placed the now half-empty glass of cider down on the bar and seriously considered leaving. He looked back over his shoulder at the door, checking for danger. The only problem was, with no faith left in himself, everything was a potential source of danger. Then he looked back at Callum. There was nothing threatening in the pair of hazel eyes that were studying him with interest and to his vast surprise Malcolm realised that he didn’t feel threatened by this man.

Objectively Malcolm assessed Callum; the man was only an inch taller than himself and dressed casually in loose fitting trousers and an untucked shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing powerful looking forearms and wide hands tapering towards the long artistic fingers that so expertly held cloth and glass. Callum’s face was round and good-natured with a wide mouth, an almost beak-like nose and hazel eyes with just a hint of violet surrounding the pupil. His hair was a dirty blonde, perhaps a shade darker than Trip’s, but worn longer and secured in a loose pony-tail. Malcolm could discern no hint of a threat in his demeanour whatsoever. Maybe he could stay, just for a little while.

“I take it I pass?” Callum smiled. “You’re not a very trusting person are you?”

“I don’t trust anyone.” Malcolm replied, that hadn’t always been true of course but Trip was no longer a part of his life. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

“I can’t read minds only emotions and you my friend are a veritable smorgasbord.”

Malcolm couldn’t think of anything to say to that and when Callum reached out towards him he let the man take his hand. The touch made him shiver but it was with pleasure not fear and something that Malcolm had not experienced in a long time, desire. Almost shyly he looked up and met Callum’s gaze and the look in those hazel eyes made him shiver as well.

With a faint smile Callum released Malcolm and turned his attention to the bar’s only patrons. “Closing time gentlemen,” he announced in a clear voice. “I’m afraid you’ll have to finish your game later.” There was a general grumbling from the pair but they did not delay in finishing their drinks and Callum followed them to the door. “Thank you gentlemen, please do come again.”

As Callum locked the door and pulled the shutter firmly downwards, Malcolm felt a twinge of unease. Had he done the right thing in staying? For a moment another memory of his time with Todd surfaced but he managed to shove it down, even though the fear still lingered.

“I promised that no one would hurt you.” Callum paused by Malcolm and he reached out with one hand, as though he were going to caress Malcolm’s face but he stopped short. “You don’t need to be frightened of me.”

Malcolm wasn’t sure what exactly it was that made him reach out and take Callum’s hand. The man was offering safety and sanctuary and Malcolm was in desperate need of both. All thoughts of Trip were ruthlessly banished and Malcolm stepped forward into Callum’s embrace.

“Do you want this?” Callum whispered, his breath tickling Malcolm’s ear. “Are you ready to trust me?”

Malcolm nodded and Callum reached over to extinguish the lights. Then he led Malcolm up a short flight of stairs and into a bedroom. He started to shake as Callum drew him into the room and pushed the door closed behind them.

“I won’t hurt you,” Callum murmured, hands quickly undoing the buttons on Malcolm’s shirt. “If you want me to stop just tell me, I’ll stop.”

“I want this.” Malcolm forced out the words and once he had said them, he knew. It was his first sexual encounter since that last disastrous coming together with Trip and he gave himself up to it, completely and utterly.

Callum’s mouth and fingers seemed to know exactly what to do to arouse Malcolm and he found himself desperately pressing himself against the man, wanting to feel something other than fear and despair.

A warm wet mouth closed around his left nipple and Malcolm gasped, the sensation of teeth lightly raked across delicate flesh brought him very close to the brink and he groaned, hands moving upwards to tangle themselves in Callum’s hair. Then the mouth moved and closed seductively around his already throbbing cock. Malcolm groaned again and then he couldn’t hold back any longer. He came, shuddering and gasping; sweat breaking out on his skin, aware of nothing else but Callum.

“I take it it’s been a while.” Callum was smiling and Malcolm found himself smiling back, his first real smile in far too long. For a long moment Callum’s hazel eyes stared into his as though considering something. “There’s a tube of lubricant on the floor.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t read minds?” But there was no heat in Malcolm’s words and he passed the tube over without further comment.

“I don’t need to.” There was a slick finger poised to enter him and Malcolm breathed out slowly as Callum eased it in. “Oh yes.” 

Callum was breathing faster now as a second and then a third finger followed the first. He thrust them deep into Malcolm and then pulled away while he prepared to fuck Malcolm properly.

Both men graoned as Callum eased his way in and when the first thrust hit his prostrate Malcolm could have sworn he was about to pass out. He couldn’t help himself; it had been so long since he had last felt safe enough to let himself go so completely. This was part of the healing process, the rational part of his mind, the part that wasn’t subsumed by passion, asserted, something Trip would have been unable to do for him. 

Callum thrusting inside him felt so right, a missing part that he hadn’t even known was missing and he let the sensation flood his body, sweeping away all awareness of anything else. 

Eventually Callum came with a yell and Malcolm wrapped his arms around the man until Callum lay still on top of him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Callum smiled and slide away from Malcolm, searching for tissues to clean himself up with. He tossed a handful towards Malcolm. 

“Maybe you’ll sleep better tonight.”

Passion spent, Malcolm nodded his agreement, barely noticing Callum covering him up or bending to kiss him before sleep rose up to claim him.  
________________________________________________________

Deep asleep Malcolm could feel the nightmare reaching out for him, a memory no doubt of what Todd had done to him and a reminder that he could never be free. Whimpering, he tossed aside the blanket that covered him, only to find that it was replaced by a warm pair of arms that encircled him.

“I told you that I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” The voice spoke gently, whether or not it was part of the dream Malcolm didn’t know but it soothed him and effectively chased the nightmare away.  
____________________________________________________________________

“Morning sleepy head.” Callum, fully dressed was lounging by the bedroom door, hazel eyes regarding Malcolm almost critically. “I’ve made breakfast. Are you hungry?”

Malcolm nodded and not, he realised, out of politeness, for the first time in ages he actually felt that he wanted to eat.

“The bathroom’s through there.” Callum indicated a door to his left. “Get washed up, then we’ll have breakfast.”

Cleansed and refreshed Malcolm emerged to find that the clothes he had been wearing were gone. The trousers and shirt waiting on the bed must be Callum’s, his own bag of clothing had been left behind when he had fled the transporter, and Malcolm pulled them on quickly, a little surprised by how loosely they hung on his emaciated frame.

“I was going to make extra,” Callum explained as Malcolm entered the bar. “But from the look of you it’s been a while since you last ate properly, so I think it’s best we start slowly.”

He pushed a bowl of what looked like oatmeal across the table and Malcolm fell on it.

“Not too fast,” Callum scolded. “Your stomach needs to get used to food again. If you eat too fast it won’t stay down.”

Obediently Malcolm slowed his rate of eating and Callum nodded approvingly.

He was scraping the bowl clean with his spoon when Callum spoke.

“Do you love him?”

Malcolm looked up.

“The man you’re running away from, do you love him?” Callum’s hazel eyes were full of curiosity, his gaze locked on Malcolm, even while he pushed a cup of tea across the table.

“How do you know?”

Callum smiled sadly. “No one ends up here who isn’t running away from something. Yesterday I thought it was whatever had you so badly frightened but it’s not that at all.”

“His name’s Trip,” it hurt to say those words and Malcolm knew that Callum was picking up on his feelings when a look of pain passed across the man’s face. “And yes I do love him.”

Long moments passed during which Malcolm and Callum contemplated each other. Eventually Malcolm broke the silence.

“But I’m not the man he fell in love with and that’s why I left.”

Slowly and painfully Callum dragged the truth out of Malcolm. It was a relief to tell someone, Malcolm realised, particularly when that someone made no attempt to interrupt but let Malcolm talk, the words spilling out of him. Once or twice someone would rattle the door of the bar before stomping away but Callum ignored them and merely prompted Malcolm to continue.

“You’ll get your courage back.” Callum said, once Malcolm had run out of words. “It’ll be there when you need it.” He reached out and took Malcolm’s hand. “What you’ve been through, the things that you’ve suffered, no one should have to experience any of that. But if Trip loves you half as much as you love him he can help you.” Callum paused and for a moment it looked as though he might cry. “What happened wasn’t his fault either and you know that’s true.”

Malcolm looked up and nodded.

“Why did you fall in love with him?”

“He’s courageous and loyal. Trip would face down a whole pride of lions to save a friend.”

“And yet it’s his loyalty to his friends that made him stay in touch with Todd.” Malcolm winced and Callum squeezed his hand. “You need to forgive him. I think that process has already begun but you need to go back to him.”

“Enterprise has long gone.” Malcolm was surprised by how desolate that made him feel but Callum smiled.

“I don’t think Trip will have abandoned you that easily,” Callum paused and then added softly, “I know I wouldn’t.”

“You think I should go back?”

“I know you’re going to.” Callum smiled, a sad smile this time. “There’s a transport shuttle leaving tomorrow.”

Malcolm nodded, he knew now that he desperately wanted to see Trip again and put things right between them. “How can I thank you?”

“Give me one more day, or at least,” Callum glanced up at the chronometer above the bar, “what’s left of it.” He smiled ruefully; the pair had been talking all morning.

“It’s yours.” Malcolm reached out across the table and didn’t object when Callum drew him to his feet and kissed him. The man pressed his tongue into Malcolm’s mouth, almost as though he were afraid that Malcolm might raise an objection if he didn’t.

“Callum?”

“Just a few more hours. Remember I won’t hurt you.” 

Malcolm couldn’t doubt the conviction in Callum’s voice and so he let himself be led back to the bedroom where the two men made short work of removing the clothes they had only donned a few hours before. This time Malcolm took charge, he could sense Callum’s approval of this state of affairs and he deliberately set his mind to giving the man as much pleasure as he could.

“I want you inside me,” Callum gasped as Malcolm finished his ministrations and the man obediently reached out for the lubricant. As he breached Callum’s body he gasped aloud, the feeling so intense his mind could dwell on nothing else. Callum was moving beneath him, muttering encouragement and Malcolm was so totally swept up in the moment that it was almost a surprise when he finally came to hear himself calling out Trip’s name.


	6. Chapter 6

This transport was a lot more comfortable than the one he had arrived on and Malcolm’s state of mind was a lot more comfortable too. He still had his doubts but Callum’s words had given him hope that maybe he and Trip would be able to find a solution together. He was still frightened, terrified in fact but talking to Callum had been a cathartic experience and now he felt ready to try and conquer at least some of his fears.

They’d been flying now for some three hours and Malcolm had just accepted a cup of tea from a smartly dressed steward when the transport began to shudder as though it were about to tear itself apart.

“Feels like someone’s locked on a tractor beam.”

Malcolm couldn’t tell where that comment had originated from but he heard it clearly nevertheless and found himself shrinking down into his seat.

The transporter had stopped shuddering, the engines had stopped too and Malcolm could hear harsh guttural voices coming from the captain’s cabin. The sound of blaster fire wasn’t far behind and then a man holding an arsenal of weapons appeared in front of the passengers.

“On your feet,” he barked, “now get moving.” He beckoned them forward and numb with fear Malcolm found himself shuffling forward with all the rest. As he passed the weapon-wielding goon he kept his eyes fixed to the floor, praying that he wouldn’t be recognised, for the man with all the guns had been one of Todd’s crew.  
______________________________________________________________________

Archer and Trip had arrived at Seti V to find no sign of Malcolm. They had searched for half a day before a chance meeting with an off-duty security guard had elicited the information that Malcolm hadn’t made it this far.

“One of the regular passengers was taking a bit too much of an interest in him,” the guard told them gruffly. “So he got off at the next stop.”

Archer, aware that Trip was quietly fuming next to him laid a warning hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Can you tell us where?”

“Sure,” the man pulled a small padd-like device out of his pocket, “I’ll show you.”  
________________________________________________________________

The trip to the trading post where Malcolm had left the transporter seemed infuriately slow and Trip spent most of it fuming that the shuttle’s engine was too small.

“Callum’s Bar.” Archer gestured to the neon sign and smiled at Trip. “This is the place.”

“Do you think he’s still here?” Trip was wringing his hands together anxiously.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Archer pushed the door open and ushered Trip inside.

The bar was quiet, only a couple of the tables were occupied and there was no sign of Malcolm. Trip could feel his heart sinking inside him but Archer was marching him towards the bar.

The young man behind it looked up as they approached, his hazel eyes sparkling inquisitively. “Three humans in as many days,” he murmured quietly, “this must be my lucky week.”

“Three humans?” Trip stepped closer to the bar and unceremoniously shoved a padd displaying a picture of Malcolm towards the barman. “Have you seen this man?”

“My name’s Callum by the way.” He studied the picture of Malcolm and his lips curled into a smile. “He was here two days ago.”

Trip swore, loudly enough to attract the attention of the other patrons and Callum grinning broadly, passed the man a glass of whiskey.

“You must be Trip.”

“What have you done to Malcolm?”

“I put him on a transporter and convinced him that he shouldn’t give up on you so easily. You can say thank you later. Although I’m starting to think maybe he would have been better off staying here with me.” Callum raised an eyebrow at Trip, who bridled but didn’t say anything and then Callum turned his welcoming smile on Archer. “I can offer you a bed for the night and you can resume your search in the morning.”

“No,” Trip answered but Archer disagreed.

“You’ve barely slept since we left Enterprise, neither of us have. One night won’t make a lot of difference.”

With a bad grace Trip acquiesced and Callum smiled broadly.

“I expect you’ll be wanting supper,” He said, not waiting for an answer before bustling off to prepare a meal.  
___________________________________________________________________

The evening was a bit of a blur, Trip had to admit to himself later, worry for Malcolm was manifesting itself as aggression and with no obvious way of venting it he drank a lot more heavily than he should have. He wasn’t sure at what point of the evening he ended up drinking alone or at what point Archer and Callum had started to make out.

Later he somehow managed to stumble up some stairs to a small room where Callum had directed him to sleep. Lying on the bed thoughts of Malcolm were disturbed by the sounds of the two men next door. He could hear Callum’s low soothing tones and Archer’s smooth replies. Making out the words was impossible but the tone was unmistakable. Eventually the voices were replaced by the sound of rhythmic groaning and Trip, hating himself and wishing desperately that he were with Malcolm, reached down and began to masturbate.

In the room next door Callum, riding high on a wave of both Archer’s and Trip’s emotions came so hard he surprised himself and Archer, thrusting into him in truth wasn’t far behind.  
________________________________________________________________________________

The passengers, now prisoners, had been herded onto a small cargo deck, empty apart from the shivering mass of people that Malcolm was just one small part of. The entirety of Todd’s crew were here and Malcolm was terrified lest they recognise him. Nobody was really sure what was happening but Malcolm didn’t even try to take part in any of the whispered conversations. The sight of Todd’s crew had reminded him of everything that he’d intended to leave behind him and Malcolm knew with certainty what would happen if he were to be recognised.

However, Malcolm’s mind, trained to think a certain way, despite his terror at being recognised almost subconsciously had begun to catalogue what he saw. There were seven crew, all of whom he recognised and all of whom were constantly armed with at least three or four different weapons, they were obviously fearful for their own safety although Malcolm wondered how they could think their cowed and cowering captives were any sort of threat.

But there are more of us than them, a small insistent voice said. A million times Malcolm rejected outright what that voice was saying to him. It’s not possible, he replied, even if I can think of a way to get them all here, how can I be sure that the others won’t freeze on me when the moment comes? None of them want to be here, the voice told him, they’d follow if someone led them and you know what you have to do.

Malcolm wrapped his arms around his head. Yes he knew but to face up to his biggest fear like that, he couldn’t do it. Whimpering Malcolm curled up, trying to tuck himself under the bulkhead he was resting against. As he lay in the semi-darkness he remembered what Callum had told him.

“You’ll get your courage back. It’ll be there when you need it.”

Malcolm had believed Callum but it was easy when nothing was threatening you. Now, huddled next to numerous aliens, all captive and scared it was a different matter.

But you’re not just doing this for yourself, the voice interjected. Malcolm groaned and opened his eyes. Shaking, he climbed to his feet and began to move among the other prisoners, talking quietly and laying out his plan and tried hard to stop himself from crossing his fingers.  
______________________________________________________________________

It was morning; three of the seven crew had arrived to distribute breakfast to the prisoners. Two, moving through the crowd distributing the barest minimum of food while their third comrade covered them. Malcolm as usual kept his head down, but once the men had retreated away from the crowd he stood up and begin to move forward, his legs shaking.

The goons eyed him with mild interest as he picked his way towards them, but he couldn’t see any recognition on their faces, for his plan to work they had to recognise him.

“What do you want?” The taller of the three brandished his weapon in Malcolm’s direction and he was relieved to see how lightly they were armed.

“I want to talk to Todd.” Despite all his efforts Malcolm’s voice shook.

“Todd?” All three peered at him suspiciously. “How do you know about him?”

“You don’t recognise me?” Malcolm’s voice sounded high and unnatural in his ears. “Does the word Starfleet help?”

“Well I’ll be..” One man reached forward and grabbed Malcolm by the arm. “You’ve changed.”

The other two were grinning at each other.

“Well boys, looks like we get to finish what we started.”

Malcolm was pulled forward and then shoved roughly to the ground. “Get the others,” the taller man snapped, “they won’t want to miss this.”

“What about the prisoners?”

The man’s gaze swept dismissively across the huddled prisoners. “Keep an eye on them but they’re not going to be any trouble.”

Long moments passed. Malcolm could tell that all seven crew were now present, he just hoped they’d come without their weapons.

Greedy hands closed on his clothing and Malcolm steeled himself. If this went wrong there would be nothing to prevent him from being brutally raped.

But at the last moment, just when he thought he’d failed, there was a startled yell and Malcolm found himself suddenly surrounded by enraged prisoners. He rolled himself into a ball as feet pounded all around him. He’d been right, that triumphant thought filled his head, he’d faced his fear and overcome it just as Callum had told him he would. Maybe now he was ready to go back to Enterprise and Trip, he was ready to go home.


	7. Chapter 7

They had been back at the station for three days now with no sign of Malcolm. Archer was afraid that perhaps despite what the man had told Callum he had changed his mind about returning to Enterprise. But he didn’t dare voice this thought to Trip.

“Enterprise is here,” Archer told Trip gently, “it’s time to leave.”

“No. We haven’t found Malcolm yet.” Trip retreated away from Archer, a mutinous expression on his face.

“Trip..”

“Give me one more day,” Trip begged. “If Malcolm doesn’t show in the next twenty-four hours I’ll leave.”

“Fine.” Archer agreed to the compromise, grateful that Trip hadn’t made more of a fuss. “Good luck.”  
________________________________________________________________

Alone on the station Trip decided to retrace his footsteps. They had searched the place thoroughly but if Malcolm had only arrived recently that could explain their lack of success.

Several hours later Trip still had found no sign of Malcolm and eventually, deciding he needed a break Trip headed to the nearest bar. He’d been here looking for Malcolm only half an hour ago and so didn’t bother looking round, he simply headed straight for the bar to order a drink. Mug of Andorian ale in his hand Trip turned. The bar was no fuller now than it had been when he’d last been in here. The only difference was that a cloaked and hooded figure was sitting at a side table, with what looked like a glass of water in front of him.

Trip, trying to discreetly make out the man’s features under the shadow of the hood, wondered why anyone would need or want to wear such a get-up in a station where the temperature rarely dropped below 86 degrees. Perhaps the direct approach was called for.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Trip placed his mug deliberately down on the stranger’s table.

The stranger looked up at him and Trip could see the glitter of his eyes deep within the hood.

“Thanks, a single malt whiskey.”

Trip froze, the voice was hoarse and cracked as though speaking were an effort but.. Hands trembling Trip pushed the enveloping hood away from the man’s face.

“Hello Trip.” It was Malcolm, even more emaciated than he had been when he had left Enterprise and with fresh bruises on his face, but it was Malcolm.

He was crying, Trip realised, fat tears were sliding down Malcolm’s face and in mirror image he could feel his own cheeks growing wet as well. The two men stared at each other in silence; it seemed like years since they had last seen each other and Trip felt a hundred conflicting emotions warring in his chest.

Did he want to berate Malcolm for leaving without saying goodbye, question him endlessly over where he’d been and what he’d done or simply just hold him? He settled for the last, tugging Malcolm to his feet and wrapping his arms around him.

“Enterprise is waiting.” He told Malcolm once the two men finally relinquished their hold on each other.

“Do you think they’ll mind waiting a little bit longer?” Malcolm asked, a suggestive look in his eyes.

Trip almost started crying again, despite his appearance, Malcolm, the old Malcolm, was back.

“I’ll find us somewhere more private.” Trip promised.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________

The room that Trip had managed to find was somewhat squalid but in truth neither man minded. They were both nervous, the last bitter words that they had spoken to each other replayed in their heads.

It was Malcolm who closed the gap between them, reaching up to cup Trip’s face in his hands. Then he moved his hands downwards, nervously fumbling to remove Trip’s uniform. His own loose clothing was easier to remove but when he saw Malcolm naked Trip had to be careful not to let any signs of horror show on his face. The man was practically a walking skeleton and Trip resolved to make fattening Malcolm up a priority. He should have known Malcolm would be able to tell what he was thinking.

“I know I should eat something. Maybe when we get back to Enterprise we can ask Chef to make us pan-fried catfish with pineapple ice-cream for dessert.”

Trip grinned. “I think that can be arranged.”

Malcolm smiled back and stepped forward to kiss Trip. It was the sweetest and most passionate kiss he had ever experienced and the two men quickly staggered over to the bed.

“Malcolm..” Memories of their last sexual encounter made Trip hesitate.

“I love you.” Malcolm put his whole heart into his words. “I want you.”  
__________________________________________

It had been perfect, the perfect sex with the perfect man and if that sounded like a cliché then so be it. Trip was lying awkwardly on his side, the bed was really not big enough for two grown men but he had Malcolm in his arms and so he was content.

There was a muffled sound from his discarded uniform and Trip rose to silence it. Malcolm was still sleeping and he didn’t want him to be disturbed.

“Tucker here.”

“Trip?” It was Archer.

“I found him. I found Malcolm.”

The very un-captainly-like whoop that issued from the communicator woke Malcolm up.

“Trip?”

“C’mon Malcolm,” Trip tossed him his clothes. “It’s time to go home.”


	8. Chapter 8

The change in Malcolm was evident to everyone and somehow, Archer noticed, the change seemed to be reflected in the crew at large. There was an almost party-like atmosphere on board and Archer was keen to indulge it. Of course Malcolm was still recovering, both physically and mentally and his desire for catfish and pineapple ice-cream immediately upon his return had been firmly squashed by Phlox.

“I thought you wanted me to eat.” Malcolm had protested. “That’s what I want to eat.”

“Your body will take some time to readjust to your normally prodigious appetite. Until it does I’ve prepared a list of foods that you are allowed to eat.”

Malcolm took the padd and looked at it with disgust. “This is it?”

“You will eat only those foods until I say otherwise.” Phlox said sternly.

“He gets it Doc,” Trip took the padd from Malcolm.

Malcolm was looking thoughtful. “Of course pineapple ice-cream isn’t really food so eating that wouldn’t count.” He smiled, pleased with his logic.

Phlox looked outraged and Trip burst out laughing. “Same old Malcolm.” Trip pulled Malcolm close and kissed him. Malcolm’s response was to deepen the kiss and Trip felt himself overwhelmed with joy. Just a few weeks ago Malcolm had seemed to put all his energy into driving Trip away and so this change in his lover was making the man giddy.

A discreet cough brought Trip back to himself and reluctantly he released Malcolm.

“We could go back to my quarters,” Trip had suggested, uncertainty colouring his tone.

“I’d love to,” Malcolm smiled, “but there’s something I need to do first.”

It didn’t take Malcolm long to track down the security man who had been posted outside his quarters on the night he had left Enterprise and he made a point of apologising to him. The ensign stammered and blushed and eventually Trip had to step in and drag Malcolm away.

“He forgives you Mal.”

“I should apologise to you too.” Malcolm’s grey eyes, momentarily troubled, glanced at Trip’s face and then away.

“There’s no need,” Trip took Malcolm’s hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. “I have you back, that’s all I ever wanted.”

“It’s what I wanted to.” Malcolm admitted and despite the fact that they were standing in a corridor Trip kissed him.

Where all the whooping and whistling crew who surrounded them had come from Trip couldn’t have said. But he executed a mocking bow and then tugged a blushing Malcolm into his quarters.  
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He’d been lost in his thoughts and grinning like an idiot, Trip realised, looking like a fool in front of the entire ship’s crew.

“Cat got your tongue?” Archer murmured quietly, smiling as though he knew exactly where Trip’s mind had been.

“Malcolm,” Trip grinned unrepentantly at Archer and then turned towards the man standing at his side. “I know I’m not always good with words but I want you and everyone to know how much I love you, how much I will always love you.” There was a ragged cheer from the crew and Trip took Malcolm’s hand. Trip looked into Malcolm’s eyes and was gratified to see the love shining in them. He reached out and touched the man’s face. Malcolm was still too thin for Trip’s liking but a quiet word with Phlox had eased his mind a little, since Phlox seemed to think Malcolm was making excellent progress.

“I want us to be together,” Malcolm took Trip’s other hand and the two men faced each other.

There was another cheer from the crowd watching and somebody shouted, “kiss him already.”

Trip smiled and after a little while Malcolm did too. It was still taking the shy and reserved man a little while to get used to the crew’s approval and positive encouragement of his relationship with Trip.

“This is for you Malcolm. I want you to know that I will love you for ever.” Trip slipped a gold band onto Malcolm’s ring finger.

Malcolm gulped and then a beautiful smile blossomed on his face. “This is for you Trip, my forever love.” Malcolm slid an identical gold band onto Trip’s finger.

Archer grinned and opened his mouth but his words were swamped by a cheer from the crew and it was doubtful that Trip and Malcolm would have heard them anyway, they were so lost in each other.

The end


End file.
